


The Cold One

by magurofish



Series: Moveable Type [2]
Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Angst, F/M, Missing!Erik, Pining, Poor Raven, Vindictive!Charles, Where in the World is Erik-Carmen-Sandiego-Lehnsherr?, Why doesn't Shaw ever appear?, Why is Charles always angry?, powered-sort-of not really?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-04-01
Updated: 2012-04-01
Packaged: 2017-11-02 20:53:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/373225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magurofish/pseuds/magurofish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The story of Erik and Charles 1913-1925. Though Charles Xavier never held any affection for Erik Lehnsherr, he couldn't help but feel that in a way they were meant for each other. That was until Charles blamed the loss of his beloved sister on Erik who disappeared years later.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Cold One

 Bleak. Melancholy. _Beautiful_. All Like Killarney during a winter rain. That’s how Charles would describe this Erik. And just like that falling water in the time the shy sun hid behind the horizon more often than naught, he was cold. His presence chilled Charles to the bone. He sapped the what warmth Stackley Gardens jealousy coveted during record snowfall.

 

Charles frowned. He had known this Lehnsherr his whole life. And he was so unlike the past ones and current ones. Those he was named for – the last being a great uncle that had loved the one he was named for – some cousin, removed twice to gods know where. Charles read the articles about the fire, the diary of the journalist, leafed through the pictures that remained. The letters that had survived, the recollections, the chess set, the family portraits, the keepsakes of his twin’s namesake.

 

All the clues were there. So obviously there, but so heavily protected behind the mind games of titles and the iron curtain of old money. What happened in these families, _stayed_ in these families.

 

Off all those he knew, Charles had felt the greatest connection to Erik – wanting to love him, hoping to love him. But he didn’t. And neither did the other. It made him bitter. His cousin, long dead, mocked him from his portrait – wouldn’t even look at him. Charles Francis Xavier indeed.

 

Charles grimaced. Anger set in. What he had wanted to be fate, to be destiny as always was just a flight of fancy. The shackles of the past held him tight to his failure- failure to be part of something he should have inherited – had the right. But it wasn’t. Not for him, but for her.

 

Erik was a work of art – and so was she. He’d lost her to him. That day, when Raven had come to him, all smiles – that Lensherr – _no_ – the _Erik Lehnsherr, The 3rd Baron Vasler‘s heir –_ proposed to his twin – _his_ beloved twin. Now she would decorate the halls of Magdahaert – and he would rot – here.

 

Least he had Wanda and Pietro – so inviting and warm like summer, unlike their hideous cousin.

 

And yet, Charles hung his head as a cloud hung over him. He bit his lip and furrowed his brow. Uncertainty and emptiness filled his chest. And a sob escaped his lips. But, for the life of him, he couldn’t figure out why.

 

-six years later-

 

Charles stood frozen. Tears mixed with rain on his face as he stared down at the deep mahogany coffins being lowered into the ground. He held his niece as she tried to bury her small head in the crook of Charles’ neck. Edie was far to mature for her three years. Maximillion clung to his leg. Stubby fingers wiped his nose. Two more bodies joined their Xavier forebears.

 

This type of thing wasn’t supposed to happen. Couldn’t happen. Charles was a doctor – he should have been able to prevent this. Though it wasn’t his fault – he felt responsible, guilty.

 

The baby was gone and it had taken Raven with him. How had she bled out? What should have been a normal, routine pregnancy – wasn’t. There hadn’t been anything before, but this one was different. Raven had changed – something had gone wrong. They were desperate to find out what. Doctors in UK hadn’t found anything. In desperation they scoured the Continent to find someone – anyone that could cure her. But there it was – Herr Doktor Schmidt – said. Nothing could be done.

 

After her death, Charles had brought the full force of his might down on that the ‘hospital’ – more like torture facility - on the Continent. How could Erik think to entrust this to a _scientist_? Schmidt had disappeared, and that cold, icy bastard with him.

 

Now here Charles was, trying to console the motherless things – trying to explain why Mama wouldn’t come back – why Papa wasn’t around. He had no answer – at least none that he could believe.

 

Someone droned on about ‘dust to dust’ and something about eternal ashes or was it eternity and why with ashes? Charles frowned. He should be present – not let his mind wander.

 

Magda wailed; she didn’t like rain. She liked the sun and warmth. Magda took her frustrations out on Max – hitting him. Charles used his free arm to try and separate them, a difficult task whilst holding Edie. Wanda walked over to scoop Magda up and stroke her hair. Pietro, returning an urgent telegram, slinked his way to the front and relived Charles’ trouser leg of the youngest bairn.

 

How were these younglings supposed to grow up without a mother – without a father? Pietro had said they would stay with him and Wanda at Magnus Abbey, but the South was far. Charles had worked it so the three lieblings, as their parents had called them, would be his wards, and move to Stackley Gardens – at least it wasn’t far from Crawley House and Magdahaert. Charles would continue what his twin couldn’t. He would raise the three and tell them all about Raven. Her complexities, her mystique, her obsession with the colour azure, how she laughed, everything. They would know and love their mother as he knew and loved his sister.

 

But for Erik, that man, that cold, distant figure –Charles didn’t know. He would hold off – maybe at least until Erik was heard of. But they would know that their father loves them and for reasons he can’t be with them.

 

Charles darkened as he went deeper in thought – had Erik been in with Schmidt? Is that why he insisted on using him? Charles knew Erik had been an excellent husband and is a loving father – as least till the dirty wee bastard disappeared, abandoning all three.

 

Charles had thrown his resources into locating Erik, the moment he did – he would rip the man apart.

 

After the last bit of dirt covered the graves Charles turned. Wanda and Pietro – children in tow – followed. The time for grieving and morning was over. The time for finding and destroying everyone responsible had begun.

**Author's Note:**

> Why can I never seem to get the fucking formatting to work?


End file.
